er
than ever, and from the throne of David, Antipas saw the upstart that was
his father rule Judaea.

With him the panorama and the kaleidoscope of its details abruptly ceased.
But through it all the voices of the prophets had rung more insistently
with each defeat. The covenant in the wilderness was unforgetable; in the
chained links of slavery they saw the steps of a throne, the triumph of
truth over error, peace over war, Israel pontiff and shepherd of the
nations of the world.

The expectation of a liberator who should free the bonds of a people and
definitively re-create the land of the elect possessed them utterly; his
advent had been constantly awaited, obstinately proclaimed; the faith in
him was unshakeable. Palestine was filled with believers praying the
Eternal not to let them die before the promise was fulfilled; the
atmosphere itself was charged with expectation.

And as the visions rushed through his mind, Antipas fell to wondering
whether that covenant was as meaningless as he had thought, or whether by
any chance this rabbi who had been arguing at Capharnahum could be the
usher of Israel's hope. If he were, then indeed he might say good-bye to
his tetrarchy, to his dream of a kingdom as well.

"Yes," Pahul repeated, "the Son of God!"

Antipas had been so far away that now he started as one does whom the
touch of a hand awakes. To recover himself he leaned over and plunged his
face in the jar. The wine brought him courage.

He must be suppressed, he decided.

"But," the butler continued, "I----"

The frontal of the palace was set with lights. The parasols of the palms
had turned from green to black, the stars seemed remoter, the sky more
dark. From beyond came the call and answer of the sentinels.

Antipas stood up. A fringe of his tunic was detained by a rivet of the
bench on which he had sat; he stooped to loose it; something moist touched
his fingers, and as he moved to the palace the black-faced ape sprang at
his side and nibbled at the jewels on his hand.

CHAPTER V.

V.

The house of Simon Barlevi was gray, and in shape an oblong. It had a flat
roof laid with a plaster of lime, about which was a fretwork of open
tiles. Beneath, for doorway, was a recess, surmounted by an arch and
covered with a layer of mud. On each side was a room.

In the recess, sheltered from the sun and visited by the breeze, Simon
s